


With All Due Respect, Will You Be My Girlfriend?

by iPhone



Series: Tinder to Coworkers [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Co-workers, F/F, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Strap-Ons, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-11-02 02:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20596715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: Chloe doesn’t get jealous by virtue of, well, being Chloe Beale. Except, sometimes she does. Continuation from Swiped Right, where Beca and Chloe navigate their new relationship in and out of the workplace.





	With All Due Respect, Will You Be My Girlfriend?

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, I hit some writer’s block on the other fic fulfilments I’ve been working on from my fundraiser. So this is just to tide us all over until I finish one that I’m particularly excited about.
> 
> Unbeta'd. Please be responsible in the workplace. There are probably a few workplace violations that I don't condone!!
> 
> [See matching GIFs here.](https://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/post/187681453114/with-all-due-respect-will-you-be-my-girlfriend)

Chloe would be remiss if she missed the days of sleeping in. Not that she necessarily did that often anymore with work and meeting performance standards.

Sleeping in kind of takes a different tone these days and she definitely is _ not _complaining.

She can’t complain, not really, not while she has one hand precariously gripping her headboard with increasing pain and stiffness shooting up her arm. Her other hand winds as best as it can into Beca’s hair, gripping tightly near the scalp as Beca’s mouth works wonders between her legs.

She is having a _ fantastic _ morning.

“_There_,” she moans out, ignoring the strain in her voice. It’s fine. She’ll just some honey to her tea. “_God_, right there, Bec.” Beca’s hands tense on her thighs, keeping her as steady as possible. Chloe feels like she is about to keel over with how deeply Beca’s tongue is buried between her folds, pushing against muscle and wetness. She cries out again, rough and raw in her throat, into her otherwise quiet room. Maintaining a slow, steady motion in her hips, she tilts her head back just far enough to feel the strain in her neck.

“Beca, you’re so good at this, baby. So good at fucking me,” she moans out.

And maybe she’s exaggerating a little for Beca’s benefit, but it is something she kind of notices about Beca – that Beca is an even more eager participant in sex when she is vigorously praised. 

So Chloe wants to test the waters a little now, to her own benefit, of course. She groans when Beca’s little moan sends a pleasant vibration through her cunt. She grits her teeth, tightening her fingers Beca’s hair before attempting to steady her own voice. “So good,” she repeats, noting Beca’s eager licking and sucking only increases. Her breath catches. “You’re so _ good_, Bec,” she manages to say, unable to hold back the whimper that escapes her. Her voice catches right on the end of that one syllable of Beca’s name.

On this morning, the praise seems to drive Beca _ crazy_. 

(Chloe files that away for future use.)

Beca hooks her arms around Chloe’s thighs and her tongue’s movement immediately become sloppy. Like she is so desperate to please. It makes Chloe feel completely debauched and dirty, but to the utmost degree of pleasure. Beca moans loudly against her skin and digs her fingers into Chloe’s thighs. Chloe cries out at the dual sensation – sharp from Beca’s fingers and soft from her lips and tongue – wreaking havoc on her senses.

_ Hm_.

Maybe she’ll need two spoons of honey.

In a flash of determination, Beca moans again – this time, long and low – ensuring that both the sound and the sensation travel right to Chloe’s aching center. She grinds her hips down, trying to be cognizant enough to _ not _ smother Beca (that would be a shame), but also willing herself to ride out her orgasm for as long as she can. They have at _ least _ ten minutes. She can last, she can last, she can–

Beca’s hands travel to grip her ass with startling precision and force. Before Chloe can do anything, Beca is helping her rock her hips along with increasingly harsh sucks and languid licks through Chloe’s folds. She whines at the loss of Beca’s tongue inside her cunt – the ache is ever present and even more persistent – but when she lifts herself further off Beca’s face to complain about it, Beca’s shiny, smirking lips flash up at her.

She hates that smirk. And the woman doing the smirking and all kinds of other sinful things with her mouth. Or at least – she _ had _been.

“Oh,” Chloe breathes, when Beca maneuvers a hand between her legs as best as she can. A whimper escapes when two slender fingers slide into her easily. She should be embarrassed at how easily, but she’s not. She can’t be, not when Beca has already given her one amazing morning orgasm. 

“Thought this would be more efficient,” Beca murmurs, like she had been reading her mind. Through her own fluttering eyelids, Chloe can make out the way Beca licks her lips. However, what really gets to her is how vividly she can see how shiny Beca’s chin is, as well as part of her cheeks. 

_ Mine, _ she thinks. The possessive thought travels straight through her body and sets her ablaze with renewed desire. She’s sure her thighs are messily streaked with her own come, just as sure as she is that she’s drenching Beca’s face even more (her sheets are definitely ruined), but she can’t do much more than writhe to feel the curve of Beca’s fingers as they begin to fuck her steadily. 

“You’re so good to me, baby,” Chloe whimpers, once she fully processes the visual between her legs. She swivels her hips around and then down to really feel every last edge of Beca’s fingers. Beca’s fingers flex and curl again. Her wrist must be working overtime. “So–” she chokes on her moan, shutting her eyes when Beca places her mouth back over her clit, gently sucking at the overstimulated flesh. “_G-good_,” she moans, finally detangling her fingers from Beca’s hair to grab the headboard with her other hand.

The sound Chloe makes is almost foreign – to both of them, perhaps – when she comes. In hot streaks of arousal and brief coiling pulses through her center, she comes and _ comes, _ breathless with how her bodily functions seem to cease save for _ one_.

Just the one.

She honestly needs nothing but the sensation of her cunt clamping down _ hard _ around Beca’s talented, dedicated, efficient fingers. And Beca’s hot breath against her clit, coming out in erratic pants like she’s on the verge of coming herself.

Chloe thinks Beca says her name, but it feels so distant, barely penetrating the fog that begins to overtake her mind. In quick succession, Chloe’s senses immediately seem to go into flux, creating the oddest vacuum around body. When she collapses to her side, Beca is quick to rearrange their bodies so Chloe at least has a pillow under her head. She thinks she’s lying across the width of her bed, but she can’t be pressed to care or check. The rest of her limbs feel boneless and useless.

“Good morning,” Beca murmurs. Her face appears in Chloe’s line of sight as she leans over her body. She slides an arm across her middle possessively and looks entirely too pleased with herself. Chloe has enough sense to admit that the smugness is well-deserved.

“You,” Chloe says after moistening her dry lips.

“Me,” Beca replies. She shifts, lifting her hand to rub at her jaw before swiping a smidge of moisture away from her chin. Chloe’s libido makes itself known with some interest, but she tamps it down tiredly. 

Instead, Chloe gazes at Beca contemplatively. Her eyes track eagerly over every inch of Beca’s face, flushed and a little sweaty in the soft morning light. Beca shifts under the scrutiny, but she does not retreat into herself, rather, returns Chloe’s gaze.

“What?” Beca finally asks when Chloe does not say a word for a few long moments. She leans in slightly, wondering if Chloe will stop her. 

“Nothing,” Chloe murmurs. “Kiss me.”

They’re kissing again, soft and slow, like they have all the time in the world. Beca’s tongue glides eagerly into her mouth, letting Chloe taste the remaining hint of herself. Slowly, she lifts a hand to cup Beca’s jaw, then her cheek. She hums happily, letting her fingers graze against the wetness still smeared on Beca’s cheek, now cool to the touch beneath her fingertips. It sparks another warm rush of arousal through her body, giving her the push she needs to slowly coax Beca on her back. Keeping her lips steady and pliant against Beca’s lips, she moves her hand down Beca’s body, seeking out the wet flesh between Beca’s legs. Her fingers have stopped throbbing uncomfortably from being wrapped around the hard wooden bed frame and they are now eager to reach their next destination.

Beca pulls back from the kiss to check the time. She groans petulantly. “Your alarm is about to go off,” she warns, but makes no move to stop Chloe’s hand. Rather, her hips tilt upwards like she’s hurrying Chloe along. Chloe thinks it’s cute the way Beca’s eyebrows knit together, like she is frustrated by their predicament.

Impatient, perhaps.

Needy.

But above all, unmistakable desire shines in Beca’s eyes. Desire is a good look on Beca. It makes her entire face soften so all her tells stand out: the soft flush on her cheeks; the intensity of her eyes; the way her lips part ever so slightly to expel quick, successive breaths – pants, really – whenever Chloe has her close to the edge, or when she stares hungrily at Chloe like she isn’t sure what to do first.

Chloe just wants Beca to do everything, honestly. All at once. She’s greedy like that. She gets what she wants, usually.

Even looking down at Beca now, the way Beca’s head rests in the cradle of Chloe’s elbow and she stares somewhat imploringly up at Chloe.

A gaze that begs without Beca having to make a sound. Chloe experimentally slides her fingers past Beca’s navel. Beca whimpers.

Chloe grins at the sound. “Then you better hurry,” she murmurs before leaning down to nip along Beca’s jaw. Her fingers slip between hot, sticky thighs. Beca’s clit is hot to the touch; it is hard and swollen, making it easy for Chloe to nudge at it with her fingertips before she rubs Beca’s excess wetness against it. “Though maybe that depends on me,” she acquiesces at Beca’s pleading expression.

Chloe is _ extremely _efficient.

* * *

It is probably the first day in _ forever _ that Chloe has arrived primly at 9:00 a.m. which is typically when her coworkers arrive. She and Beca somehow manage to catch a thankfully empty elevator and it takes everything in Chloe’s willpower not to just touch Beca in any way. Even the simple act of holding Beca’s hand could lead to a slippery slope – a slippery slope leading straight to kissing Beca probably.

So, she settles for simply watching Beca as the elevator makes its ascent.

“What?” Beca asks, self-consciously rubbing her palm over her jaw. “Did I fuck up my make-up?”

“No, of course not. It’s nothing. You’re just cute,” Chloe placates. She likes the tiny blush that rises on Beca’s cheeks.

“You’re cute too,” Beca replies, though she is subdued and her eyes flicker to the floor in a show of charming shyness Chloe has come to know over the past few weeks.

_ What are we? _ She wants to ask. Demand it, maybe. The dates have been nice. Seeing Beca regularly has been even nicer.

(And there’s a whole host of other things that Chloe could think about, but she’s trying to get into the right mindset for _ work_, not the right mindset to take Beca straight back home and call in sick for both of them.)

So instead of voicing anything, too afraid of what Beca will say or do, Chloe straightens her shoulders just as the elevator dings. “This is me,” Chloe announces, when they reach her floor. She ignores Beca’s amused expression and walks out of the elevator, but not before she manages one last smile over her shoulder. Though she has no regrets about sending Beca to Aubrey, she kind of wonders if there was a _ point_, considering it’s been an entire month of Beca not working for her and they have yet to make things official.

Chloe shrugs off the aura of self-doubt and greets Gabrielle who rushes up to her looking both confused and relieved.

“What?” Chloe asks, accepting her moderately warm coffee.

“It’s nine,” Gabrielle says, wonder creeping into her tone. She slowly opens her padfolio, continuing to stare at Chloe like she expects an explanation.

“So?”

“We thought you got hit by a truck,” Amy’s voice chimes in from behind them. Amy, who is Aubrey’s erstwhile second assistant and somehow never where she needs to be, is typically a bringer of bad news as far as Chloe’s concerned.

“Well, _ I _didn’t think that,” Gabrielle mumbles in a clipped tone.

“What does Aubrey want?” Chloe asks quickly, speaking over Gabrielle. 

“Her office in fifteen. I think she wants you on board for the Pepsi portfolio. Some big campaign coming up.” 

Chloe could smack herself in the forehead. She _ knew _about that – and weeks in advance too. “Oh, right. Right. Uh–” She feels flustered for the first time in years. “I’ll just...get ready for that. Yep, totally prepared for that.” She’s not. Then, in a sickly-sweet tone directed at Amy, “I can’t wait.” She can.

Amy does not even bat an eyelid. “Sure.”

Chloe waits until Amy finishes shooting her finger guns and boards the elevator. Once the steel doors close, she turns to Gabrielle. “My office.”

Gabrielle, as it turns out, is probably the most over-prepared person Chloe has ever met, let alone hired. She immediately knows where Chloe’s relevant files are because it’s not like Chloe has been _ totally _slacking off over the past week, it’s just that maybe she’s a little scatterbrained. 

* * *

If Aubrey notices anything amiss during the meeting, she doesn’t say anything.

She accepts Chloe’s proposal.

Beca, who is sitting beside Chloe and diligently taking notes, says nothing.

Though the way her foot runs up Chloe’s calf speaks volumes.

* * *

Obviously they _ do _go on another date, and then another. Chloe stares at Beca like she’s the most interesting and beautiful person in the world.

It’s not dating per se, but it’s _ something_. 

Things go pretty smoothly after that first day. A few weeks later and Beca settles into a routine pretty nicely, enjoys the benefits of a stable paying job, and has regular sex with her boss, but totally not-boss.

Just like that, they’re seeing each other.

_ Casually_, of course.

Because neither of them really feels confident about relationships at the moment but honestly as far as Chloe’s concerned, they’re seeing each other. 

She’s just working up the courage to ask Beca formally. The top of her to-do list is “Ask Beca Mitchell to be gf” and Chloe is pretty adamant about sticking to her list. It’s one of the few things she picked up from Aubrey when they went through their MBA together. 

Her life isn’t significantly different. She still meets Aubrey for lunch sometimes. She still sends Gabrielle out for coffee. She still finishes her projects and sets up her project timelines with efficiency.

It’s just _ now, _she gets to brush by Beca whenever she passes her on the way to Aubrey’s office. She gets to brush her hand against Beca’s shoulder, gets to see Beca’s mock-glare as she shuts the door to Aubrey’s office.

(It doesn't happen often, but still.)

She gets to call Beca down to her office whenever she sends Gabrielle out on unnecessarily long coffee runs (she really should look into a raise for that woman) and she gets to bite on the skin of her hand to stop from moaning too loudly when Beca’s lips trail up the inside of her thigh on the days she wears flowy skirts.

(_That_ really doesn't happen often.)

She gets to go home early sometimes and sit at her kitchen table after making a nice dinner. She gets to go home and simply wait for Beca to join her before their dinner goes untouched and Beca is shedding her jacket by the door and stepping into Chloe’s waiting arms.

So not much _ really _changes, but there are new bonuses here and there. Chloe is a firm believer in work-life balance.

And she’ll get around to asking Beca to be her girlfriend, _ really_. It’s just, sometimes Beca is a little distracting and steers her off course unintentionally, she’s sure.

Like _ now_, near the end of the day, when Beca _ finally _ responds to her original flirty text.

(Chloe had texted Beca earlier when she passed her in the mail room, _ I can’t stop thinking about you and how great those jeans look on you. Not quite company policy, but ;)._

She had fretted nervously when Beca hadn’t responded immediately.)

**Beca Mitchell  
** _ I like it when you think about me. _

**Chloe Beale  
** _ Well, good, because I think about you a lot. _

**Beca Mitchell  
** _ Anything specific? _

Chloe bites her lip, looking around surreptitiously even though she is alone in her office.

**Chloe Beale  
** _ Maybe. Though right now I’m thinking about one thing. _

**Beca Mitchell  
** _ What thing? _

**Chloe Beale  
** _ Thinking about what you’d look like riding my strap. _

They had briefly talked about it over the weekend and it was all Chloe could think about. She glances back down at her phone, watching as the text bubble pops in and out, like Beca is typing something nervously and erasing it. She stifles a grin behind her hand, loving how flustered Beca gets sometimes when Chloe talks about sex boldly and openly.

**Beca Mitchell  
** _ Hm. I don’t know if you have one big enough for me. :) _

_ What. The. Fuck. _ Chloe nearly spills her mug of water across the table. “Shit,” she mutters, when she ends up knocking a folder to the floor in her haste to avoid short circuiting her computer. She returns to her phone quickly to make sure she hadn’t hallucinated Beca’s text.

“Ms. Beale?”

Chloe glances up, startled. She fumbles with her phone before she drops it on her desk. “Yeah. I mean, yes. Hi, what is it, Gabrielle?”

“Meeting in ten minutes. You wanted to go over the slides?” 

“Oh–right.” She glances back down at her phone once more before making the decision to send a text back to Beca, already thinking about what she wants to do when she gets out of work.

* * *

And as it turns out, maybe Chloe does have a strap-on that suits Beca’s needs adequately, if the way she is breathlessly chanting out Chloe’s name interspersed with a colorful variety of curse words.

Honestly, Beca’s last coherent thought is that Chloe had been _ holding back_. 

Each thrust forces air out of Beca until she is breathless and using whatever air she has left to moan wantonly. She can tell Chloe likes that based on the way her grip tightens on Beca’s hips and her thrusts become more precise. Quicker.

If Beca had known Chloe would be an absolute _ pro _at wrecking her so efficiently with her strap-on, Beca would have suggested it long ago.

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, Beca,” Chloe whispers suddenly. Her front then melds against Beca’s back, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. Chloe’s hips have unfortunately stopped moving, but her fingers are slowly inching their way down Beca’s stomach. “Do you want that?” she asks in a sickly sweet tone. “Do you need me to do that for you?”

Beca shuts her eyes and nods. She’s sure she must look pathetic with her head hanging between her shoulders and her fists clenched into her pillow. She whimpers when Chloe’s hips shift, pulling the toy out of her just the slightest amount. She shifts back restlessly and greedily, seeking that fullness once more. 

“Stop that,” Chloe orders. It is so quietly ordered, however, and Chloe’s tone doesn’t even really change. Not in the way Beca expects. There is a quiet confidence behind Chloe’s words, like she _ knows _ Beca will stop. Like she _ knows _all Beca wants is to give up control to her.

Like she knows Beca inside and out. 

_ You do, _ Beca thinks. _ You know me, you know me, you know me _–

“_Please_,” Beca begs. She’s not above begging. “P–” She inhales sharply. “Please fuck me.” She groans, arching her back and leaning down so she can press her face into the pillow. She can’t keep herself propped up any longer, especially not when Chloe has the strap halfway pushed into her and isn’t _ moving_. “I need you,” she moans in a voice she barely recognizes. She sounds hoarse and foreign to her own ears. 

Chloe inhales sharply at the sight of the smooth expanse of Beca’s back curving and bending in front of her. She swallows, glancing down further to see the glistening base of the strap-on, following the wet trails up until where the rest of the toy is buried inside Beca’s cunt. She experimentally forces her hips forwards, watching in awe as all the muscles in Beca’s back seem to ripple with the strain that must rush through her body. 

Beca moans again, timed perfectly with Chloe’s second thrust. And again.

And again. 

By the time Chloe rebuilds a steady rhythm, she forgets the burn in her abs and her thighs. She forgets the beads of sweat forming along her forehead. She forgets everything but the way she can almost feel Beca clamping hard around the silicone, how much wetter the silicone is every time it slips from Beca’s folds, and how Beca is very nearly screaming into her pillow with how loudly she moans.

“I want to hear you,” Chloe implores. She leans forward to bite Beca’s shoulder lightly. 

Beca can do little more than obey. She can do little more than bend to Chloe’s will, bent over already as she is, and succumb to the sheer pleasure that rushes through her when her head bows slightly and a moan slips past her lips. Chloe’s grip on her hips tightens at the sound and Beca is _ gone._ She moans with each thrust, each moan more wanton and filthy-sounding than the last.

Chloe can’t even bring herself to care or wonder if Beca is exaggerating for her benefit.

* * *

“You know, you seem to like my apartment,” Beca says in wonder one morning as Chloe fiddles with her shower. She hangs up their towels and grins when Chloe tugs her into the cramped stall, both of them letting the warm water wash over both of them.

Chloe peers at her through one half-opened eye, like she thinks Beca said something incredibly silly. “Of course I do.” She reaches out to lather shampoo into Beca’s hair. “It’s very _ you_.”

* * *

Chloe doesn't get jealous, but honestly it kind of sucks that Aubrey gets to see Beca more than Chloe by proxy of just working with her. It's selfish, but Chloe finds herself in a state of mind where she kind of wants to see Beca all the time, but she's just so proud of the work Beca's doing and so happy that Beca seems satisfied with the job (though her complaints about Aubrey make Chloe giggle from time to time).

Hell, even _Gabrielle_ sees Beca more. 

Chloe pouts at her report which has barely moved on her screen.

_You're just overthinking this whole girlfriend thing_, her mind taunts her.

She scowls, hitting the backspace key a few times, entirely unnecessarily.

* * *

Chloe takes to rehearsing to herself from time to time, because it’s not like she can go to her usual go-to resource, Aubrey.

_ Hey Aubrey, how do I ask your assistant to officially be my girlfriend? _

“So, what are we?” she asks aloud into her empty office. She flinches, wondering if her tone is too heavy – too expectant. 

“Are we dating?” she tries again.

“Be my girlfriend.” _ Too demanding_.

“Please be my girlfriend?” _ Too needy. _

She continues scratching items off her list until she reaches the end of her notepad and finds no more possibilities.

Frustrated, she stands and paces for a few moments before deciding on a quick trip up to Aubrey’s floor to see how Beca–er–Aubrey is doing. With all her many projects.

It isn’t that Chloe has never visited Aubrey before for no reason, it’s just that she tends to beeline straight to Aubrey’s office more often than not. 

“‘Sup Chloe,” Amy greets her as she passes her cubicle. Immediately there is a rustle of paper and Beca’s head pokes up from the cubicle right outside Aubrey’s office, her hair loose and a little messy around her face.

“Chloe?” she asks, curiosity written all over her face. 

Chloe winces, wondering how many other eyes have to swivel towards her before–

“Chloe?” Aubrey’s voice sounds from behind her. Aubrey is walking towards her with a pile of manila folders. “What are you doing here?” Aubrey’s brow furrows. “Was it that new mail guy? Did he deliver something of mine to you again? I knew he had a crush on you. Totally inappropriate.”

Beca seems to perk up. “What crush?”

Aubrey ignores her, but moves to stand over Beca’s shoulder. Chloe follows, ignoring the way her heart palpitates as she nears Beca, who as far as she can tell, looks all kinds of adorable with her loose black jacket and plain blue button-up she snagged from Chloe’s closet. Totally casual observations.

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” Aubrey says quickly. “I was just letting Beca here know how appreciative I’ve been of her work. She has been hardworking and diligent, which has been a pleasant surprise. We don’t have many new hires who are _ this _ highly-motivated right off the bat. Or hires that pick up on concepts so quickly.” Aubrey speaks in a completely matter-of-fact tone, leaving nothing to the imagination. Chloe knows Aubrey must be super-pleased with Beca’s performance or she wouldn’t bother with speaking at all considering Aubrey speaks only for her own benefit and rarely for others’ benefits.

It is Beca’s curious reaction to all this praise that piques Chloe’s interest, however. She had seen the hint of a blush begin on Beca’s cheeks when Aubrey started speaking. By the time Aubrey is finished, Beca looks entirely too pleased and her neck nearly glows with the force of the flush that fades past her collar.

Beca seems to flush even more when she catches Chloe’s eyes.

_ Interesting. _

Chloe raises an eyebrow.

Beca quickly looks away.

_ Very interesting. _

“That’s good to hear,” Chloe says, eyes still fixated on the top of Beca’s head. Beca busies herself with typing nonsensically into Excel. Chloe can tell. “What a wonderful investment.”

“You can’t steal her back,” Aubrey jokes.

Chloe laughs, albeit a bit more weakly than she would have if circumstances were different.

(Particularly the circumstances that involve Beca’s particularly obvious praise kink, though Chloe’s sure if she said as much to Beca – the combination of the words “praise” and “kink” – Beca would combust on the spot.)

Instead, she smiles pleasantly at Aubrey and squeezes Beca’s shoulder as she leaves the cubicle to enter Aubrey’s office.

* * *

It isn’t that she’s jealous. Not at all.

She can totally understand why people enjoy being praised for their work. It’s a normal human reaction to a normal thing that happens when somebody performs well. Normally.

So Chloe isn’t jealous.

* * *

Beca has to stay late at the office, so Chloe does as well. She gracefully sends Gabrielle home at 5:00 and waits until around 7:00 which is when Beca finally makes her way down.

Chloe glances up when Beca knocks. “Come in,” she calls.

Beca’s head pokes around the corner of the slightly open door and she smiles, relieved, when she sees Chloe sitting behind her desk.

“Hi you,” Chloe greets.

Beca gives a little wave and stares at the various paintings and shelves in her office. “I love your office,” she admits. “Aubrey’s has way too many books.”

Chloe swallows. “Oh?” she asks, powering through. “What else do you like about my office?” She closes the binder she had been poring over and carefully places it in her desk drawer so her table is cleared.

Beca’s eyes flash. “A few other things.” She slowly makes her way around the corner of her desk and perches at the edge, appropriately enough that she’s somewhat of a distance from Chloe, but still close enough that Chloe catches a whiff of her perfume and can clearly see all the skin on display when Beca’s skirt rides up a little.

“Come here,” Chloe requests, backing her chair away so Beca can sit directly in front of her.

Beca raises an eyebrow, but does as she is told. 

“Good,” Chloe comments, raising an eyebrow when Beca’s legs seem to immediately part when she stands. “Did you like that?” Chloe sounds genuinely curious, the even tone of her voice belied only by the eagerness of her hands as she grips Beca’s hips, pulling, moving to stand between her spread knees. “You always seem to react when _ I _ tell you how _ good _ you are.” 

Beca looks like she might choke on her own tongue. “Good?” 

“Like when you’re being a good girl for me,” Chloe clarifies. She keeps her tone steady, but her hands are moving up Beca’s thighs at a steady pace, moving the fabric of her skirt further and further up her skin. “You like it,” Chloe breathes, leaning in to press her lips to Beca’s ear. “When I tell you that you’re being a good girl, especially when I’m fucking you.”

“N-no, I don’t,” Beca tries to argue. It’s honestly _ so _cute, the way she tries, but how her hips jump up at Chloe’s touch? That is so much more telling. Chloe leans back and grins at Beca expectantly, but Beca stares back at her with something akin to defiance.

“Oh really?”

Beca swallows.

“So…” Chloe’s thumbs are so close to touching her aching center through her underwear. “You just like it when everybody tells you how good you’re being? How great you are at being an employee here?”

Confusion. “What?” Beca finally manages to ask, the haze dissipating for a moment.

Chloe tucks her lower lip between her teeth, staring at Beca with imploring, contemplative eyes. The intensity of the gaze kind of makes Beca suck in a breath because she is so consistently floored by Chloe’s beauty.

But more than that, she thinks she gets at Chloe’s underlying message – at Chloe’s brief surge of insecurity because Beca feels it too. Every day that she only half gets to call Chloe _ hers_, she wonders if Chloe is going to meet somebody better – if Chloe will move on and become bored. Beca is too paralyzed by her own fear of commitment to let Chloe past her shoddily-crafted walls, but she just kind of wants Chloe to be the one to take that step.

Before Beca can say anything, Chloe is surging forward and kissing her, tugging at Beca’s hips so she is more precariously-balanced on the edge of her desk. Beca’s hands scrabble across the wood for purchase before she lifts her hands to grab at Chloe’s shoulders. Sinking into the kiss, she groans into Chloe’s mouth, desperately giving chase when Chloe pulls back.

Her head snaps back however when she feels Chloe’s fingers rubbing up and down over the increasingly-damp patch on her underwear, increasing pressure steadily until her hips are rocking wantonly against Chloe’s hand.

“Please, Chlo, _ please _–”

Chloe’s lips trail leisurely across her neck, from one side to the other. “Please what, baby?” 

“In–inside,” Beca begs. “Inside–”

Chloe’s thumb comes to rest a little heavily on her clit, finding it easily through the fabric of her underwear. Beca gasps.

“You don’t get to make demands,” Chloe says quietly, before grabbing the back of Beca’s neck and pulling her in for a rough kiss. “Say _ please_,” Chloe murmurs against her lips before she is tugging at Beca’s lower lip a little more roughly than usual.

“Please,” Beca murmurs, a little slack-jawed from the force of Chloe’s kiss.

“You’re being so perfect for me, Bec,” Chloe coos, kissing along damp skin. She wants to bury her face between Beca’s legs, but she wants to see Beca fall apart from just her words. “Such a good girl,” she enunciates.

Beca looks like she might be close to tears or on the verge of some kind of breakdown. Her jaw is slack and she is panting heavily, watching Chloe as she kneels between her legs, neither progressing or regressing. Somehow, the phantom hint of Chloe’s fingers buried inside her this morning, paired with the memory of Chloe’s tongue on her clit (what a perfect way to wake up) – both linger in the forefront of her mind and she needs to be _ there _ again. She’ll do _ anything _ and Chloe’s voice is sweet and low and just _ perfect_.

“Please,” she begs, unable to stop herself. “Please, I’m _yours_–I’m so yours, Chloe. _Please_–” 

It seems to be exactly what she needs to hear because Chloe is pulling at her underwear until they slide down her legs with ease. Beca gasps again, this time when Chloe’s tongue swipes up and around wet folds. She immediately grabs onto Chloe’s hair, needing something to hold on to while Chloe steadily tongue-fucks her right on top of her desk for all the world to see.

* * *

Maybe it isn’t the best place or time to ask, but she had known from the moment Beca had walked into this very office on the first day of her new job, that she wanted Beca to be her girlfriend. Something instinctive and primal had clawed its way through her chest and she _ knew _–

“I was so jealous,” Chloe groans, as Beca pushes her back into her chair, quickly straddling her lap. “Of–” Beca’s hands are steadily unbuttoning her shirt. “Of–Aubrey,” she murmurs.

Beca grins into her neck before she lifts her head to smile right at Chloe’s face. “I could tell. Everybody could tell.”

Chloe stills her hands, gently gripping Beca’s wrists. “Be my girlfriend,” she says softly. “Please. This, like...isn’t just because of Aubrey or anything. I just know that I want you to be mine.” She inhales. “And I want to be yours.” She pulls Beca closer, so that their lips almost touch. “So much.”

Beca rests her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and nods, feeling relief and affection and desire all melt into one. They settle in her chest comfortably and she knows Chloe feels the same way. “I want that too,” she murmurs. "And by the way? You being jealous of Aubrey? Very hot."


End file.
